


From A Shell

by DannyTheStreet



Category: Alkaline Trio (Band), Gerard Way - Fandom, My Chemical Romance, matt skiba - Fandom
Genre: Blind Character, Blindness, Cute, Disability, Disabled Character, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Physical Disability, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 06:24:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/771051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DannyTheStreet/pseuds/DannyTheStreet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WpSLbQcphr8</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

The smell of sea water was intoxicating. Gerard was sitting so close he could almost taste the salt when he breathed in. He loved it here though, the sketch pad in his lap, the smell of the water and the faint tang of the salt on his tongue. He loved sitting atop the rocks so close to the edge of the water that he could occasionally bask in the barely noticeable spray the waves created as the crashed against the stone. Most of all, he loved the lilting melody of the man playing guitar, barely feet away. He loved the way it mixed with the sound of the wind whipping and the water crashing and the gulls screaming. Sometimes, when he wasn't sketching, he'd close his eyes and breathe in the smell of the sea and get lost in the surroundings. It made him feel infinite and vulnerable all at once.

He never ever knew what the man was playing. He hadn't recognized one tune the man strummed in the weeks he'd been listening to him play. All he knew was that he was drawn to those sounds. Light and slow and haunting. If he could somehow inject the feeling the man seemed to be able to convey, simply by plucking a few strings, straight into himself, he would. It was the only time he'd ever felt like something, anything, was actually meant for him.

The first time he'd heard the man play was completely coincidental. He'd come out to the shore simply because he had nothing better to do. He had a nearly non existent social life save for a few colleagues from work. He got home and decided if he had to spend another night watching Prisoner re-runs and staring at the wall he'd lose it. So he went to the first place that came to mind.

He found a relatively solitary spot on top of the rocks at the far end of the beach. He sat for a while, watching the water and the froth collect on the rocks below. He listened to the water intently, immediately enjoying the sound, until he heard the faintest tapping sound. He looked around in confusion for a few seconds until he caught movement from the corner of his eye. That's when he saw the man for the first time.

He was tall and shockingly slender, but not so much so that he looked sickly. There was an odd elegance to him. His long legs, complimented by the snug fit of the charcoal black straight leg jeans he was wearing, led up to a square, petite waist. His hipbones were very noticeable with the way his jeans were riding, his simple button up shirt looking a size too small, riding up his torso as he moved. He wore a black skinny tie with his sleeves rolled up, revealing a vibrant splash of colorful designs adorning his forearms. From what Gerard could see, the man was very handsome, full lips and sharp chiseled features. He was wearing sunglasses and a gray newsboy cap. He carried a plain black guitar case in one hand and tapping a cane along the rock with the other. 

Gerard watched as the man made his way to a spot just feet away from him and sat down indian style, tucking the cane securely underneath his legs before reaching over and popping the guitar case open. He removed the instrument and adjusted himself to a playing position with a comfortable ease. The man sat silently for a few moments, running his long fingers up and down the neck before strumming out a melody.

He knew it wasn't polite to stare but Gerard couldn't tear his eyes away from the man. Only after watching him for a few moments, did Gerard actually register why the man was carrying a cane, which only further encouraged him to stare. Gerard didn't even know if the man was aware of his presence and as rude and creepy, even, as it was, he didn't want the man to know he was there. For some reason Gerard was absolutely and completely enthralled with just watching him, listening to the music that, if he stared hard enough, seemed to be creating a certain atmosphere around the man. He felt if he even breathed too hard, the music would stop, the feeling would disappear. So he just sat and watched and listened and soaked up the amazing feeling that radiated from the man and his guitar.

That's what he's been doing for weeks now. He'd come down to the shore and sit on the rocks once a week at the same time every week and wait. He'd wait until he heard those taps, the same taps, they'd make his hair stand on end in anticipation. He'd watch as the man would settle himself and play. Sometimes he'd even sketch the man but he was never satisfied with any of them, he always failed to capture that feeling that the man and his music radiated. He sketched anyway, he wanted this image, this feeling ingrained into his brain for some reason. It was a nagging want he was never able to shake and, if he were being honest with himself, he really didn't want to.

At this point, he was more than positive the man was completely oblivious to his presence. Gerard would always be sure to arrive earlier than the man and he didn't dare make a sound when he played. He just sat and watched until the man stopped playing, gathered his things and left.

Often times when he sitting at home and occasionally at work, he'd find himself sketching the man over and over. He hardly even realized what he was doing until he'd find himself trying meticulously to remember the color and placement of the man's tattoos. He didn't know why the man and his music seemed to be stuck with him but really, he didn't mind it. He looked forward to going down to the shore and watching, listening, basking in the unexplainable feeling the man radiated.

\--

He sat down at his usual place atop the rock and waited, watching the waves as he usually did. He perked up immediately when he heard the faint tap tap tap against the rock and turned to watch as the man approached. His face fell though as he noticed how the man, instead of taking his usual route to the same spot he sat every week, he seemed to be walking toward Gerard.

Gerard sat, frozen in the spot as the man sat directly in front of him. He swallowed hard and watched dumbfounded as the man, without a word, completely expressionless, reached over and opened his case. He did everything the exact same way he usually did, except he was mere inches away from Gerard. Had Gerard leaned forward even the teeniest bit, his knees would be pressed against those of the man sitting in front of him.

Floundering, Gerard looked directly at the man, the man seeming to look directly back at him. Gerard couldn't tell though because the man was wearing sunglasses, just like every week. He watched himself in the reflection of the man's lenses, completely at a loss for what to do.

After a few moments of the man remaining completely silent and stone face, Gerard scrambled to grab his notepad with intentions of high tailing it out of there. He was halfway up when he was startled by the man's voice, sharp and husky, "Don't go".

He froze then, lifting his head slowly to see the slightest of grins tugging at the man's lips. Even though everything in Gerard's body was screaming at him that he'd already made enough of a fool of himself and to just leave, he sat himself back down in front of the man.

Gerard watched as the man titled his head slightly, the tiny grin still playing on his features. They sat like that, in complete silence for a few minutes. Gerard fidgeting nervously, not able to pull his gaze away from the reflection in the man's sunglasses, the man not saying anything, leaning slightly on the guitar in his lap.

It wasn't until the man's knees brushed against his own that he even realized the man was leaning forward, reaching out. His long tattooed fingers brushed barely noticeably against Gerard's cheek. Gerard's breath hitched as the man's fingers lingered there for a brief moment before he pulled his hand back. Gerard felt the heat rising in his cheeks as the man skillfully gripped the neck of his guitar. Giving him such a dazzling smile it made Gerard's stomach flip, the man began to play.

\----


	2. 2

Gerard watched in awe as the man's fingers expertly plucked the strings of his guitar. He was so close he could feel the sound reverberating through his chest. He sat and listened, not failing to notice the strange heat the man seemed to be giving off. As he played, it would hit him in waves. It wasn't an uncomfortable heat, if you could even call it that. It was a culmination of everything Gerard was feeling all those weeks watching the man play, except it was so close. It was warm and welcoming and it just felt damn good.

He was so lost in the feeling, he hadn't even noticed when the man stopped playing. It wasn't until he realized he no longer felt the comforting thrum of the chords in his chest that he opened his eyes to see the man, sitting with his head tilted, the same bemused smirk from earlier gracing his features.

Gripping the sketch pad he had with him, anxiously in his lap, Gerard leaned forward, noticing the man's eyebrow quirk the slightest bit. 

"Can....can you see me?"

The man grins brightly. "Not exactly," he says, crossing his arms over his guitar.

"Then how did you know I was here?" Gerard asks, shaking his head in confusion.

"You were buzzing," the man shrugs.

Gerard pauses for a moment, not understanding at all what the man could mean. "....I was what?"

"Buzzing," the man states plainly.

"What does that even mea..."

"What's your name?" the man interrupts.

"Gerard, what's yo..."

"Gerarrrrrrrd" The man butts in again, saying his name as if testing how it sounds rolling off his tongue.

Gerard remains silent, looking at the man incredulously, not knowing exactly how to respond to his odd demeanor.

The man shifts a bit, drumming his fingers against his guitar. "So, Gerard, how come you never came over and to say 'hi'?"

Gerard can't help but smirk when the man makes what looks to be jazz hands, saying 'Hi' rather animatedly.

"I'm not that scary looking am I?" the man pouts.

"Hell no! You're actually pretty damn..." Gerard stops himself abruptly, blushing furiously and cursing his less than stellar social skills as he looks up at the man, who's giving him the biggest Cheshire grin he's ever seen. "It's just, you're so bea...oh fuck," Gerard swears under his breath before trying to compose himself and form a coherent sentence. "What I meant to say was, you play so beautifully, I didn't want to bother you."

Despite the slow blush he could feel creeping it's way to his cheeks, he couldn't help but stay glued to the spot, completely transfixed by the man sitting in front of him, smiling wide and warm.

"Thanks for the compliment, or compliments rather," he beams.

"I..I didn't mean..." Gerard stutters.

The man sighs, resting his chin over his crossed arms. "Do I make you nervous, Gerard?" he asks, his brow knitting.

"No, not exactly," Gerard answers softly, "I'm just not that great with people" he sighs, fiddling with his sketch pad.

The man lifts his head, his nose scrunching in response. "That's a lie." 

"What?"

"Well, I bet you're great with people, you have a ton going for you. I'm sure if you wanted, you could have loads of people hanging on your every whim. It's not that you're not good with people, you just don't know your own potential, either that or you're scared of it."

Gerard gapes at the man before asking cautiously "You've barely known me for an hour, how could you possibly say that?"

The man grins at him and he suddenly feels that rush of heat, that feeling pouring off of him in waves. It would be overwhelming it if didn't feel so right.

"I know because you don't glow like the others."

The man leans forward, placing his hand on Gerard's knee, still grinning as he whispers, "You buzz...".

Gerard bit his lip, all too aware of the heat bubbling underneath his skin where the man's hand rests. He stares at the man's hand, taking a ragged breath as the heat seems to crawl slowly higher and higher up his leg. "W-what does that even mean?" He mumbles, unable to tear his gaze away from the man's hand.

The man spreads his fingertips over Gerard's knee and sighs, "If I told you now, you wouldn't understand..." He trails off as he leans further forward placing his other hand on Gerard's opposite knee. The man grins as Gerard curses under his breath, leaning back on his palms as the heat suddenly pools in the pit of his stomach. "Besides, it'll give us more to talk about when I take you out."

"What?!" Gerard squeaks, his eyes shooting up to meet the reflection in the man's sunglasses.

"You. Me. Date," the man beams cheekily.

"How do you know I even like guys?" Gerard scoffs.

"How do you know I'm blind?"

"Are you trying to say my sexual orientation is obvious?" Gerard retorts disdainfully.

"No, but your reaction makes it obvious."

Gerard narrows his eyes at the man, "You shouldn't do things like that, not only is it downright rude, but if you did it to the wrong person you could get hurt..."

Gerard's breath hitches as the man smirks wryly at him. He leans even further forward, his hand trailing farther up his thighs. The heat from earlier suddenly becoming overwhelmingly intense.

"Are you going to hurt me, Gerard?"

"N-no," Gerard whispers, unable to take his eyes off the glint in the man's sunglasses.

"Good," the man chirps, suddenly pulling back and beginning to pack away his guitar.

Gerard shuddered immediately reacting to the drastic drop in temperature as soon as the man pulled away. He watched, completely at a loss for words as the man grabbed his case and stood up.

"You never even told me your name," Gerard finally chokes out when he manages to find his voice again.

"I know."

"But I thought we were going out?"

The man gives him that same warm, dazzling smile from before, reaching out and brushing a piece of hair from Gerard's eyes. "We will," he says softly "See you next week, Gerard." Before Gerard even has time to respond, the man turns on his heel and begins walking off, leaving Gerard to watch his disappearing figure and listen to the fading of the tap tap tap of his cane against the rocks.


End file.
